


Musings on The Woman

by EmeraldEyes8917



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Scandal In Belgravia, Anthea is the Best PA, F/M, Government, Jealousy, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28108539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldEyes8917/pseuds/EmeraldEyes8917
Summary: Miss Irene Adler is an enigma and has touched many lives, even that of Anthea.Miss Adler had pursued Sherlock Holmes with feverish desire and wished to claim him as hers, while Anthea is left to pine forlornly for the man she cares for.This begs the question: What does she really think of The Woman?Based on a long-running Twitter group RP.
Relationships: Anthea & Irene Adler, Anthea & Mycroft Holmes, Anthea & Sherlock Holmes
Kudos: 2





	Musings on The Woman

There was a question she continually asked herself whenever the topic of the Belgravia affair and its fallout came up.  
  
_How did she really feel about Irene Adler?_  
  
Two words: it's complicated.  
  
In the very beginning, her name had come up amid a flurry of scandalous rumours that fueled many conversations at the water cooler and during coffee breaks. She had not paid them any heed, and instead would be gathering as much intel as she could to add to the file for Mycroft Holmes.  
  
Two political scandals and a novelist's marriage ended. Her file was steadily growing, as was Anthea's own curiosity.  
  
When the fateful day arrived with the photographs that threatened to shake the foundations of the monarchy, the curiosity had reached its peak. She was ordered to research further, and she happened upon her website. It was a world that she had never ventured into in all her time in the employ of the government, but this was by no means a conventional case.  
  
'The Woman'. Ice-blue eyes, blood-red lips, raven hair, and a chain poised to be clenched between pearly white teeth. A full-blooded fantasy. She felt intimidated already, and it was just the 'Welcome' page.  
  
She clicked through each of the pages, being greeted with more images of Miss Adler, looking every inch the domination mistress, the descriptions of the services she offered causing her to tilt her head. She took a screen-capture of each of the webpages, each with the prominent masthead in bold type, 'Know when you are beaten'.

Throughout this exercise, she was at least grateful that she had her own office rather than a cubicle in an open-plan bullpen, for she would surely have been discovered and ridiculed or else vague rumours about her personal life would surely be spread.  
  
Now Anthea was not a prude. She had relationships in the past and enjoyed sex when it was emotional and meaningful. She just did not indulge in many talks about preferences or experimenting, since she had enough to talk about with her colleagues that involved work and the nation rather than her private life. Her tastes were pretty ordinary, and if she ever had the courage, she may have suggested light bondage to her previous partners. But never anything so painful or humiliating as what Miss Adler offered.  
  
Apparently, there were people out there who enjoyed those things, who found pleasure in them, and were willing to pay Miss Adler for it. Those few who had indulged in 'recreational scolding' had obviously paid the price.  
  
She had printed off the photos, ensuring that no one was present in the printing room and would start up some juvenile office gossip.

Before she placed them in an envelope, she spent a few minutes perusing them for a bit longer than necessary, feeling something strange pooling in her belly. Was it that curiosity again, or something else?  
  
Giving herself a mental shake, focusing on the task in hand, she delivered the photographs to Mycroft Holmes, who was speaking on the phone when she went in.  
  
"Ah, thank you, my dear. I trust that everything is in order?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I was just speaking to Harry. He is deeply concerned about this entire matter. If it goes public, the entire monarchy will be in jeopardy."  
  
She nods, her expression just as serious, "She doesn't seem to want any trouble. Perhaps this is just a ruse to get us wound up."

'So like a dominatrix..'  
  
Mycroft hums, steepling his fingers in a classic Holmes pose. "We cannot risk it. Something must be done about those photographs."  
  
A beat.

"Are you going to bring him in, sir?"  
  
He meets her eyes levelly. "It is the calm before the storm. He would be the last person I would ever turn to in such a delicate matter... but it appears we have no choice. Yes... have Sherlock brought to Buckingham Palace."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Holmes."  
  
  
That was several months ago and life continued on in its own fashion, be it mundane or otherwise. 

Sometimes, she would think of Miss Adler, of the image she presented to the world, of the hold that she would have over the nation's most powerful figures, how she nearly destroyed Mycroft's world, and how close she had come to beat Sherlock Holmes.  
  
Always a game.  
  
Now things were different. Irene Adler was not a polished image in a photograph. She was real, she was cunning, she was beautiful, with nails that could draw blood and words that could wound deeply. She wanted Sherlock, and would not go without a fight.  
  
Jealousy was never an emotion she dwelt on for too long. There was enough to be doing with becoming a green-eyed monster. But in her darkest moments, when work was not going well when she doubted herself and her abilities when she felt lonely, she would compare herself to Miss Adler, one of the few women who held Sherlock's attention and who had provided him with a game that had kept him from boredom.

She had the power, and she knew how to control people.  
  
All of this would have been justified in her mind had she not revealed her feelings for Sherlock, and known that he was fond of her. She would have continued to believe that she could never measure up to 'The Woman', with her white wings, the hallmark of an angel, and would have suffered the constant battle of trying to step out of her shadow.  
  
Now Anthea was certain of one thing: she was not beaten yet.


End file.
